


Desperate Actions

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-28
Updated: 2011-09-28
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: To save Sam from the Hell inside his mind, Dean will unleash a part of himself that he has struggled his whole life to control.  Warning: Spoilers for 6X09 and 6X22.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Too much damage.

 

Too far gone.

 

Dean had heard those words spoken by every hunter, back alley doctor, paranormal expert and psychic he had ever met or even heard about. Hell, he had even gone to talk to witches, and man, does he hate witches. He had begged crossroads demons and reapers.

 

Dean stood with Sam as his shadow in front of some eatery in South Boston. Within its brown stone shell were made the best grinders in all of Boston or so he had been told. But the smells and sights had done nothing to entice Dean. His world was ash, black and white. His days a desperate drive to find a cure for Sam who edged closer and closer to the abyss with each tick of the clock. He swung his gaze back over his shoulder to Sam. He thought of Sam as his shadow now. Really, Sam was just a shadow of his Sam.

 

This shadow of Sam, the young man standing in front of him, Dean would not have ever recognized as his Sam. He was gaunt, his body hollowing out due to the small amount of sustenance Dean could force into him. Dean rarely thought of eating for his own sake, but he tried to feed Sam like clockwork. But there were fewer and fewer moments when feeding Sam was possible. Shadow Sam didn’t talk to directly to anyone, unless you counted the voices in his head then it was a running dialogue. A dialogue of which Dean could only hear one side.

 

His mind wandered back to the exchange in the bistro. Death had dropped his eyes and sighed, his frail frame sagging in resignation. Death always talked to him like he was some simple child. And Dean acknowledged that in these things he was. He had always been a slow learner when it came to Sam. Death had pursed his pale lips. Inhaled resolutely and spoken softly, “You knew it was a one shot deal, Dean. Once it failed, the wall could not be reconstructed.”

 

“But you,” he gestured with open palms to Death. Dean’s voice broke, “You have almost limitless power.”

 

Death tapped his bony fingers against the table and then raised his waxy hand to run it down his face. “I do have infinite power, but I am not omnipotent. I am, also, not infinitely patient. This topic is wearing on me. And we know what waits at the end of my weariness.” It was a blunt reminder of a marker yet to be called.

 

Dean couldn’t worry about that debt now though. He bowed his head and mumbled his thanks as he tugged Sam to his feet. And funny thing about Shadow Sam is he just follows. Oh, he is mumbling and nattering, his head at a tilt down and to the right but he comes. Dean’s Sam would have balked at being led like this. But for Shadow Sam, really for every facet of Sam now, it is a necessity that Dean lead him.

 

Sam has other attributes, he is not always Shadow Sam. There are times when he can’t even function at this low level of Sam-ness. Catatonic Sam. He will collapse where he is, sometimes he just simply doesn’t wake up in the mornings.

 

Then there is Lucid Sam. Lucid Sam is closest to being Actual Sam. Lucid Sam makes all the other Sams harder to accept. Lucid Sam is sullen and quiet. He can eat by himself but he usually chooses not to and Dean can’t make Lucid Sam eat. Lucid Sam still can’t be by himself though. He remembers all that stuff that Shadow Sam is witnessing. He follows Dean around like a puppy. Dean made the mistake of trying to leave Lucid Sam in the room with Bobby once. Lucid Sam was terrified to be with just Bobby and made it abundantly clear by curling himself in a ball and wailing. He flinched from Bobby’s touch. Dean saw the deep hurt Sam’s lack trust caused the older hunter, but like everything else that was a worry for another time. 

 

Lucid Sam had had an episode. Yeah, an episode. Dean even took Sam to a shrink. He thought nothing else was working. He thought he was desperate. In the end the kind doctor had committed Sam saying he was a danger to himself and others. It had taken Dean four hours to retrieve Sam from the institution.

 

He had thought he was desperate then. But desperate was ten stops ago on this bus ride. Murder/suicide was about half way here. He had it all laid out. Had it all ready just waiting for Catatonic Sam to make an appearance. He would put Sam out of his tortured misery and then he would follow. Because there is no reason for Dean without Sam. But Dean had thought on it too long. He was no longer sure Sam had enough scraps of soul to be returned to Heaven or Hell. And Dean knew now that no matter where Sam was destined for, Dean would not be able to follow. In that year of soulless RoboSam, Dean had been confronted with an ugly truth.

 

Truth about what was really out there and in him. An event that was a blip on the radar so small that Sam had barely touched on it in his drive to rectify the wrongs of the year of RoboSam had changed everything for Dean. Well, Dean was trying to hold it together and let nothing change outwardly, but inside it was all different.

 

If you had asked him a year ago if there were anything magical about himself, he would have blown it off saying his smile or maybe even something more lewd. He knew in his heart of hearts that Sam was the special one. But then he had been taken. And all the a little bit wrong or a little bit off that Dean had accepted his whole life had flashed to awareness in that Other place.

 

Dean started to walk dragging Shadow Sam behind him, his fingers encasing Sam’s too thin wrist. Dean calmed his heart and listened to the air. Under the noise and dissonance of the city and it’s mundane people, lived another sound. A faint crackling, a hum of energy, like a giant fluorescent light, it was a ley line. And now they were following it.

 

 

They drew up to a pub, of course, the crossroads of several ley lines. Dean could feel more of the crackling coming from inside. He turned to look at Sam. He disengaged his fingers from Sam’s wrist and ran his fingers through Sam’s unruly hair. He knew better than to try to catch Shadow Sam’s eyes. “Okay, Sammy, I need you to just ignore everyone in here. Not too hard for you, right? You know they, well, they’re gonna say things, but,” even to Shadow Sam Dean couldn’t lie. His lips curling into a smirk, Dean huffed out, “I’m glad you don’t have too see this, Sam.”

 

He laced his fingers with Sam’s. As he turned, Dean let his defenses drop. He rolled his shoulders and pushed through the door. As they strolled into the pub, Dean could feel the gaze of many, too bright eyes on him, he could feel the crackling under his skin now. He did the only thing he knew how to do, what John Winchester had taught him to do when confronting any force even one greater than your own, he looked them in the eyes. Letting the true iridescent brightness of his own eyes show for the first time since returning to the Away.


End file.
